Songs My Mother Taught Me

Sunday 9 November 2008 at 7.30pm
Songs My Mother Taught Me
Magdalena Kožená mezzo-soprano
Malcolm Martineau piano
Schulhoff
INTERVAL 20 minutes
Folksongs and Dances from the Těšínsko Region:
Martinů
When I was on mummy’s lap
Come and sit in my trap
I want to dance the Cossack dance
Songs on Two Pages
Dvořák
Love Songs, Op. 83
Eben
Evening Songs, Op. 3:
Little Sorrows
I dreamt you were dead
Novák
Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55:
Fairytale of the Heart, Op. 8
Moravian Folk Poetry in Songs:
And the wood is quiet all around
Songs My Mother Taught Me
The strings are tuned
The Little Bench
Game Warden
Little Apple
Uneasy
Musicians
Each half of tonight’s concert will last approximately
35 minutes. The performance will end at approximately
9.00pm.
Janáček
Silesian Songs from Helena Salichová’s Collection:
Hey, what nightingale is this one?
In the black wood
Barbican Hall
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City of London
Corporation.
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Notes
Songs My Mother Taught Me
Patrick O’Connor in conversation with Magdalena Kožená
Magdalena Kožená says that spending so much time, as
she does, singing in French, German or Italian, it is a
special pleasure to return to the Czech language. ‘Of
course, your own language is always the most
comfortable to sing in. There’s no language coach
standing beside you in rehearsal, telling you you’re
pronouncing something incorrectly! And in your own
language you can always get the best colours in the
voice. Many of the songs I have chosen for this concert
have been with me for a long time. Wherever I have
been, I have included some of them in recitals. They are in
my blood: when I sing them, it’s as if I’m not working.’
of it. This is all part of the folkloric tradition. There is a
great pride in the individuality of each region.’
As a child, Kožená remembers often going to the village
festivals, where there would be gatherings with everyone
in traditional costume, ‘And then the great pleasure they
took in tasting wine in cellars. The musicians would come,
playing in the gypsy style, with violin and cimbalom,
and people would drink and sing. That was always so
much fun.’
Erwin Schulhoff (1894–1942) makes perhaps the most
sophisticated use of Czech themes in his songs from
Těšínsko. A pupil of Debussy, he was also one of the
For this recital, Kožená says that she wanted to try and
earliest Czech composers to take jazz seriously, and to
demonstrate the wide range of Czech music, especially
incorporate its influence into his symphonic work.
that which has been inspired by folk melodies and poetry.
Schulhoff was very much a man of his time: he was
‘Now, for people who don’t know the language, it’s a bit
influenced by Dada, by Soviet Social Realism, as well as
hard to explain. You see, in Moravia there are scores –
the apparent opposites of the 12-tone music of the
maybe hundreds – of different dialects. Virtually every
Second Viennese School and American ragtime and
village has its own dialect. So people hearing it for the
jazz. He was a pianist with the Jaroslav Ješek jazz
first time, even if they know Czech, won’t understand a lot
orchestra in Prague in the 1930s. After the German
3
Notes
invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1939, Schulhoff became a
victim of the Nazi pogrom. ‘His story is tragic, I have also
recorded some of his German songs in the past. I find
that in his arrangements, which are often very witty, you
can always hear a certain kind of hope. For a lot of these
artists, there was a greed for living every moment: they
knew they didn’t have much time left. Yet they often dealt
with this dramatic, dreadful time, in a very optimistic way.
I think his music deserves much more attention.’
Petr Eben (1929–2007), unlike Schulhoff, survived the
Holocaust (he was imprisoned in the concentration camp
at Buchenwald). For many years a professor at Prague
University, he also had a major career as a concert
pianist. His music is rooted in his spiritual beliefs, and his
fascination with medieval and Renaissance literature and
art. Magdalena Kožená knew Eben from her student
days. ‘He was a very religious man, and I think you can
hear that spirituality in his music. One can say that this is
absolutely modern music, but then he also wanted to
use15th-century poetry, and present it to us through his
own eyes and ears. I also sang his music when I was at
the start of my career as a student. He is a very important
4
composer for the Czech people. His songs are very well
written, and the choice of poetry is always fascinating.’
Vítězslav Novák (1870–1949) was encouraged at an
early age by Brahms, who recommended him to the
Berlin music publisher Simrock, who issued some of his
early piano cycles. From 1896 onwards, Novák made
regular visits to Moravia, studying the folklore and music
of the country. His group of songs, Op. 8 (Pohádka
srdce, ‘Fairytale of the Heart’) coincided with the
beginning of a romantic, unhappy, involvement with the
singer Josefina Javurková.
Kožená adds, ‘A lot of Czech music is still very littleknown, so my idea in these concerts was to juxtapose
songs by all these very different composers, but in doing
that to try and show the huge range that there is. There is
a very big difference, say, between the simplicity of some
of the Janáček and Martinuo arrangements, and Novák’s
much more sophisticated style, but even his songs I can
hear something very Czech, very close to all of us.’
The modern popularity of the music of Leoš Janáček
(1854–1928) has overshadowed the work of nearly all
Notes
other Czech composers. As Kožená grew up in Brno,
where Janáček lived, she feels a particular affinity with
his music. ‘Although he wasn’t born in Brno, it’s so
connected to him as a person, one can feel his presence.
Some of these little folk melodies that he arranged are
really extremely simple. But even with the tiniest
inflections he immediately turns them into personal
statements. You can identify the composer straight away.
And folk music was enormously important to him – you
can tell from the way he used so many of its motifs in his
operas. I just wish that he’d written more mezzo roles! But
he needed that extra strength of the dramatic soprano
voice – impulsive and emotional – to achieve the big
range.’ Janáček’s biographer, John Tyrrell, has written:
‘Eastern Moravian folk music (Janáček’s focus of interest)
shares the melodically and rhythmically richer
irregularities of word-based Slovak, Hungarian and
Romanian folk music. In this sense Janáček drew on
sources that brought him closer to his contemporary
Bartók than to his Bohemian predecessors Dvořák
and Smetana.’
Bohuslav Martinuo (1890–1959) came from the
Bohemian-Moravian border country. Although his initial
works drew on Czech folk music, Martinuo was early on
attracted to French culture, and after the First World War
went to live in Paris, where he studied with Roussel.
Despite the immense sophistication of much of the
music Martinuo composed in France and later the USA,
he never completely abandoned his roots, and in 1944
composed the Songs on Two Pages, based on Czech
themes. Though he was an immensely prolific composer
(there are more than 25 operas and ballets), much of
his music remains little-known. Just as 60 years ago,
few people outside Czechoslovakia knew anything
of Janáček, so Martinuo awaits reappraisal, and a
strong musical champion to bring his works to a
wider audience.
Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904), remains the most popular
of all Czech composers. Growing up amid the strongest
possible folk-music influences – his father was an innkeeper, and played the zither – Dvořák went on to bring
his country’s music to the attention of an international
public. But although his orchestral and chamber music is
5
Notes
widely performed, only one of his operas – Rusalka – has
achieved anything like a permanent place in the
international repertory. Similarly, although Dvořák
composed dozens of songs, one remains more famous
than all the others – ‘Songs My Mother Taught Me’, from
his Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55. Why should this be?
Magdalena Kožená tries to explain: ‘It’s hard to say. The
melody is very catchy, which helps. He published it first of
all in German, and it caught on very fast. Maybe if
people had heard all the others as well, they might have
chosen another.’
There is a continuity to Kožená’s programming, for
Dvořák, Janáček and Martinuo all knew one another, and
later the tradition passed to Novák, Schulhoff and Eben.
‘I sang Martinuo from right at the start, when I was a
student; there are so many of his songs that are good for
that learning process because the vocal line is often very
easy. I certainly included some of them at my very first
recital when I was student. But it can be a deceptive
6
simplicity. The later composers are much more
sophisticated in their approach, in the way they
use the folk melodies, but those melodies are still there,
still important.’
Were these songs that Magdalena Kožená’s mother
taught her? She says that there are indeed songs here
that she knew as a child, and which she heard in the
village festivals, from musicians who kept alive the
traditions of Czech and Moravian folk poetry and song.
‘My mother is not a professional singer, not at all. But she
loved to sing, and she knew a huge number of songs.
There is a particular tradition of singing to children in our
country, I would say much stronger than one sees any
more in the West. It was really important, that in each
family these songs would be handed down, taught to
the children.’
Programme note © Patrick O’Connor
Texts and translations
Erwin Schulhoff (1894–1942)
Národní písně a tance Těšínska
Folksongs and Dances from the Těšínsko
Region
Když sem byla mamince na klině
Když sem byla mamince na klině,
hej, na klině, hej,
chodivali chlapci ke mně i v zimě,
a i v zimě, hej!
When I was on mummy’s lap
When I was on mummy’s lap,
hey, on her lap, hey,
the lads visited me even in winter,
even in winter, hey!
Když sem byla trochu větši pannu.
větši pannu, hej,
chodivali chlapci za mnu, jen za mnu,
enem za mnu, hej!
When I was a grown-up maid,
a grown-up maid, hey,
the lads used to come for me, only me,
for me alone, hey!
Sidej na vuz
Sidej na vuz, kochani moje,
ně pomože plakani tvoje,
ně pomože, mily bože,
už su koničky ve dvoře,
sidej na vuz muj, kochani moje.
Come and sit in my trap
Come and sit in my trap, my sweetheart,
there’s no need for you to cry,
no need, dear God,
the horses are already waiting,
sit in my trap, my sweetheart.
Už by rada na vuz sidala,
eščech otcu něděkovala,
děkuju vam, otče mily,
byl stěo mě starostlivy,
už něbudětě, zustaňtě sbohem.
I should very much like to sit in your trap,
but I haven’t yet thanked my father,
thank you, dear father,
you have taken good care of me,
do not worry any longer, I am bidding you farewell.
Už by rada na vuz sidala,
eščech matce něděkovala,
děkuju vam, ma matičko,
za vaše vychovaničko,
zustaňtě sbohem, mamulko moja.
I should very much like to sit in your trap,
but I haven’t yet thanked my mother,
thank you, dear mother,
for bringing me up,
I am bidding you farewell, my dear mummy.
Kozaka by tancovala
Kozaka by tancovala,
Kozaka mi hrejtě,
A ktereho jo mam rada,
Teho že mi dejtě!
Davali mi pěrvěiho,
Něstojim jo o něho,
Davali mi druhieho,
Tež něstojim o něho.
I want to dance the Cossack dance
I want to dance the Cossack dance,
play the Cossack for me,
and the one that I love,
give him to me!
They gave me one,
I didn’t care for him,
they gave me another,
I didn’t care for him either.
Please turn page quietly
7
Texts and translations
Pasala volky
Pasala volky na bukovině,
měla ze sebu skřipky jedině,
i grala, zpivala,
svoje sive, sive volky pasala.
She was grazing her oxen
She was grazing her oxen in the beech grove,
she had nothing but her fiddle with her,
she played, she sang,
and her grey oxen grazed.
Pasla jich pasla, ež jich ztratila,
ach ja něšt’astna, coch to zrobila,
i plače a chodi,
kdo mi moje sive volky navruti.
Grazing them like that, she lost them.
‘Alas, poor wretch, what have I done,’
she walks along crying,
‘who will give me back my grey oxen?’
Uslyšel Jašo plač, nařikani,
přiletěl ku ni bez zavolani.
Děvuško, co mi daš?
Za pusinku hned tu svoje volky maš.
Jaša heard her crying, lamenting,
and he rushed up to her unbidden.
‘Fair maid, what will you give me?
For a kiss you will have your oxen back in a trice.’
Oj, kdybys ty mi volky zas nalaz,
dala by tobě pusinku zaraz,
oj zaraz, oj zaraz,
sedmdesat sedm razy, raz po raz.
‘Hey, if you retrieved my oxen for me,
I would give you a kiss on the spot,
on the spot, oh, on the spot,
seventy-seven on the trot, one after another.’
Utěkal Jašo ažk bukovině
a přignal volky, oddal divčině.
Divčino, volky maš,
slubovalas dat’ pusinku, dat’ zaraz.
Jaša ran into the beech grove
and rounded up the oxen.
‘My beauty, you have your oxen,
now you promised to give me a kiss.’
Dala by tobě pusinku, dala,
kdyby mamulka za mnu něstala.
Divčino, čachrajko,
slubovalas a nědalas, ciganko!
‘I would kiss you, I would,
if my mummy were not watching over me.’
‘You minx of a gypsy girl,
you have gone back on your promise.’
Petr Eben (1929–2007)
Malé smutky
Little Sorrows
Pláč ze Spánku
Dotvé duše, která vic než rána
od narození mě bolela
na svuo j obraz chtěla bych
se divat jako do černého jezera,
aby se jak slaná slza v slze smutek muo j
v tvém smutku rozplynul.
Ale kde jsi?
Ráno při česání vevlasech
mi praská drobná sul.
Crying in one’s sleep
How I wish I could gaze deep into your soul,
which hurts me so deeply, like a wound;
how I wish I could gaze upon my own image,
as if it were a lake, dark and black as night,
so that my sorrow and yours might run together like tears,
salty and clear as spring water.
But where are you?
When I brush my hair in the morning,
tiny salt crystals will crackle in my hair.
8
Texts and translations
Láska
Kdyby ted’ oči zdvih,
’ma mě rád’, řekla bych, ’ma mě rád’.
Zˇe je však nechal tak,
sedl si na ně pták, musí spát.
Zˇe je však nechal by’t,
mohu jak dosud snít ’ma mě rád?’
Zrozmaru, jenom tak, na oči sed mi pták,
musím spát.
Love
Had he looked up just now,
I’d know: he loves me, he loves me!
A little bird came, softly closed his eyelids,
so that now he is still fast asleep.
Since he has not stirred,
can I still dream of his kisses?
Oh, that a little bird might softly cover my eyes as well,
because I too must sleep.
Chlebové Drobky
Napadlo na dečku
pár chlebovy’ch drobečkuo.
Za chvilenku dvoje dlaně
Breadcrumbs
Strewn across the snow-white tablecloth
lie crumbs of dark bread;
two pairs of hands flutter anxiously above them, like two
butterflies,
as if by deliberate design: you and I,
each blown by the summer wind,
over both the table and the bread.
What if our fingers should meet,
should softly brush one another in secret?
Our hands might perhaps – yes – even touch.
slétnou na ně
jako moty’li, cose stolu poletí.
Snad zavadí o malíčky,
snad se dotknou prsteníčky
ruce tvé i mé,
snad se dotkneme.
Dy’m z Cigarety
Kouří si,
kouří miláček, ke stropu stoupá
obláček mě kounce.
Mlčíš i ty a mlčím já,
zdaleka hudba doléhá tichounce.
Kouří si,
kouří, muoj mily’,
vznáši se mráček spanily’
vy’š a vy’š, vy’š a vy’š.
Vine se mráček kolem mne
a přesto semne nedotkne,
jenty smíš.
Cigarette smoke
My darling is smoking!
I watch you, you say nothing, and I …
I too say nothing, just like you.
A little cloud rises ever so gently,
the sound of far-off music reaches our ears, ever
so quietly.
My darling is smoking,
smoking and saying nothing;
see how the little cloud rises ever higher!
It drifts gently over me,
hovers lightly and frizzles in my face,
but it doesn’t dare to touch me –
that’s for you to do!
Smutny’ Den
Je smutny’ den, den šedivy’,
jdou mraky plné deste.
Muoj miláček je podivín,
byl vždycky, bude ještě.
Muoj miláček už není my’m,
sedím tu zcela sama, zcela sama.
Miserable day
What a grey day, what a funereal day!
The rain clouds drift by.
My darling is so strange
and always will remain so.
My darling no longer belongs to me,
if indeed he ever, ever did!
Please turn page quietly
9
Texts and translations
Je smutny’ den, den šedivy’,
divám se do nezdnáma,
do nezdnáma do nezdnáma.
What a grey day, what a funereal day!
I sit and stare blankly into empty space,
I sit all alone and gaze into space.
Vítězslav Novák (1870–1949)
Pohádka srdce, Op. 8
Fairytale of the Heart, Op. 8
Píseňmelancholická
Jsou v světě srdce ubohá,
jež neví co je štěstí,
jimž každy’ den a každá noc
jen novou bolest věstí.
Melancholy Song
There are wretched hearts in the world,
which do not know what happiness is,
for which every day and every night
bring only new pain.
Jsou v světě srdce ubohá,
jež neví co je láska,
v něž záhy již za mlady’ch let
tak mnohá vryta vráska.
There are wretched hearts in the world,
which do not know what love is,
in which, since their early years,
so many furrows have been carved.
Jsou v světě srdce ubohá,
jež znají jenom touhy,
však málokdo si vzpomene,
jak v touhách život dlouhy’.
There are wretched hearts in the world,
which know only longing,
but hardly any of which remember
how long life drags on in yearning.
Zda není snem?
Zda není snem, že vinul jsem tě k sobě
a líbal ručky, líbal tváře obě
a celoval zas vábné tvoje rety,
až v moři blaha pomíjely světy?
Zda není snem, že vinul jsem tě k sobě?
Isn’t it a dream?
Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me
and kissed your hands, kissed both your cheeks
and again kissed your charming lips
until the world was drowned in a sea of delights?
Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me?
Zda není snem to celé moje štěstí,
že zkvetly znovu lásky ratolesti,
že srdce tvoje na my’ch prsou bilo,
jak o tom dlouho srdce mé jen snilo,
zda není snem to celé moje štěstí?
Isn’t it a dream, all that happiness of mine,
that the shoots of our love have blossomed again,
that I have felt your heart beating against my breast,
the way my heart long only dreamt of,
isn’t it a dream, all that happiness of mine?
Ach, byl to den tak luzny’, beze stínu,
já v myšlenkách tě ještě k sobě vinu
a líbám znova, líbám vroucně zase,
ač vše už zašlo v neúprosném čase.
Ah, that was such an enchanting, cloudless day,
in my thoughts I again hold you close to me,
I kiss you anew, I kiss you again passionately,
though inexorable time has engulfed everything.
To znovu zas jsem poznal, co je štěstí,
a jaké blaho láska lásce věstí,
to opět žil jsem den v tom světě zdejším,
So I have come to know once more what happiness is,
and what joy love promises to love,
I have in this world been able to relive
10
Texts and translations
jenž žití mého dnem byl nejkrásnějším.
Zda není snem, že vinul jsem tě k sobě?
the day that was the most beautiful of my life.
Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me?
Večer
Jest večer, kouří se z lesuo,
červánek stromy prokmitá,
kytici z vřesu ti nesu,
je celá rosou pokryta.
Evening
It is evening, the woods are smoky,
twilight glimmers between the trees;
I bring you a bouquet of heather,
it is all covered in dew.
Každy’ ten nejmenší kalich
plá jakby protkán rubíny,
nesu ti v těch kvítkách maly’ch,
své lásky velké hlubiny.
Every tiniest calyx
sparkles like a brocade of rubies.
In these little flowers I bring you
all the depth of my love.
Podzimní nálada
Južpřišel podzim, sníh a mráz,
květ se stromuo a listí střás’
a smutek přines’ v duši.
Autumn Mood
Autumn has already come, snow and ice
have made the blossom and leaves fall from the trees,
and have brought sorrow into my soul.
Jen upomínek rychly’ let
mně chvíle štěstí vrací zpět,
jak jaro mízu hruši.
Only the rapid flight of memories
brings back moments of happiness to me,
like the rising of spring sap.
A vzpomínám na vonny’ les,
kde v náruč tvou jsem poprv kles’,
tě zlíbal v stromuo stínu.
And I remember the fragrant wood,
where I first fell into your arms
and kissed you in the shade of the trees.
Ó, drahá, vrat’ ty chvíle zas,
necht’ hřejí v srdci v zimní čas
což nevidíš, jak hynu?
Oh, my dear, bring back those moments,
so that they may warm my heart during the wintertime,
do you not see how I am dying?
Ažpřejde den
Až přejde den, až budu spát,
přijd’ na muo j hrob se podívat,
jen podívat a neplač moc;
kdo usnul již, spí každy’ rád,
a svatá je ta tichá noc,
ta noc, kdyžpřejde den.
Once the day is over
Once the day is over, when I am sleeping,
come and gaze on my grave,
only look, do not cry much;
those who have already fallen asleep are at peace,
and holy is the silent night,
the night that falls, once the day is over.
Měl jsem tě rád, a ty to víš,
jak snadnila jsi dnuo mi tíž,
co setřelas mi slzí s řas,
jen přijd’ a řekni: Ty užspíš,
však na mne někde čekáš zas,
vždyt’ měls mne rád.
I loved you, and you well know
how many of my days you brightened,
and that you dried the tears on my eyelids,
so come and say: You are now asleep,
but wait for me again somewhere,
for you always loved me.
Please turn page quietly
11
Texts and translations
Leoš Janáček (1854–1928)
Moravská lidová poezie v písních
Moravian Folk Poetry in Songs
Lavečka
Ta naša lavečka,
aj užsa polámala,
co sem se synečkem,
aj na ní sedávala.
The Little Bench
That little bench of ours,
it is broken now,
where I used to sit
with my beau.
Byla to lavečka,
aj z dřeva olšového,
byl ten muo j syneček
srdenka falešného.
It was a little bench
made of alder-wood,
that beau of mine had
a false heart.
Ta naša lavečka,
na dvě sa rozdělila,
že naše srdenka
obě dvě rozlúčila.
That little bench of ours,
broken in two,
just as our two hearts
have gone their separate ways.
Ty naša lavečko,
aj zruo stni sa mi ešče,
starodávny’ galán,
aj navrat’ sa mi ešče!
O little bench of ours,
become as you once were,
give me back again
my suitor of yesteryear.
Hájny
Hájíčku zeleny’
Kdo t’ a hájit bude?
Myslivca zabili,
Hajného nebude.
Game Warden
Who’ll ward you now,
my green wood sweet?
The warden was killed,
who’ll watch over you.
Hájíčku zeleny’
Kdo t’ a hájit bude?
Galánečko moja,
Kdo k vám chodit bude?
Who’ll ward you now,
my green wood sweet?
My young fair maid,
who will call on you?
Ešče sú hájící,
Co ma hájívalí;
Ešče sú šohajé,
Co k nám chodívali.
Still there are wardens,
who have warded me,
as there are young lads
who have called on me.
Ešče sú hájící,
Co ma jájit budú,
Ešče sú šohajé,
Co k nám chodit budú.
Still there are wardens
who will carry on warding me,
as there are young lads
who will carry on calling me.
12
Texts and translations
Jabúčko
Fuč, větříčku,
z podolé,
zroň jabúčko
lebo dvě.
Little Apple
Blow, wind,
from the valley,
bring down a little apple
or two.
Neráňaj ně
zelené,
ale pěkné
červené.
Do not blow down
a green one,
but a nice
red one.
V zeleném je
červíček,
a v červeném
Janíček.
In the green is
a little worm,
and in the red
my Johnny.
Tiha
Těžko je mi, těžko
Na mojim srdečku,
Jak by mi ho zvazal∏
Hedbavnu šňurečku.
Uneasy
I’m feeling uneasy
deep down in my heart,
like it was bound,
with a silk string tied up.
Hedbavnu šňurečku
Tu rozvazat’ možu,
Na tebe, synečku,
Zapomět’ nemožu.
A silk string indeed,
I can unbind,
but you, my sweet lad,
forget I can’t.
Muzikanti
Muzikanti co děláte,
aj, máte husle, a nehráte!
Musicians
What are you musicians doing?
hey, you have violins but you are not playing!
Zahréte mně na cimbále,
at’ moja milá veselá je.
Play your cimbalom for me,
to make my beloved merry.
Zahréte mně na husličky,
a rozveselte ty dróžičky.
Play your fiddles for me,
and amuse the maidens.
Zahréte mně na tó basu,
a rozveselte všecku chasu.
Play your double bass for me,
and entertain all the village boys.
Zahréte mně všeci spolu,
a vyprovod’te mě až domu.
Play all together for me,
and escort me home.
Please turn page quietly
13
Texts and translations
Slezské písně ze sbírky Heleny Salichové
Silesian Songs from Helena Salichová’s
Collection
Aj co to je za slaviček
Aj co to je za slaviček
co tak šumně zpiva;
a to je muj najmilejši,
ze mě se vysmiva.
Hey, what nightingale is this one?
Hey, what nightingale is this one
that sings so sweetly;
wait, it is my dear beloved,
who is mocking me.
Něvysmivaj se ty ze mě,
z chudobnej děvuchy;
něnosim ja střibra zlata
ani drahe šaty.
Do not mock me,
a poor penniless girl;
I do not wear silver, gold
or expensive clothes.
Po prvni raz sem tě viděl,
jak si kravy pasla;
ty si se mi zalubila,
bo’s šumně zpivala.
The first time I saw you,
you were grazing the cows;
you took my fancy,
because you sang so sweetly.
Po druhy raz sem tě viděl,
jak’s věneček vila;
prosil sem tě o věneček,
ty’s mi ho nědala.
The second time I saw you,
you were plaiting a garland;
I asked you for the garland,
but you didn’t give it to me.
Po třeti raz sem tě viděl,
jak’s ruže trhala;
prosil sem tě o ružičku,
ty’s mi ju nědala.
The third time I saw you,
you were picking roses;
I asked you for a rose,
But you didn’t give it to me.
Aj, dala si, aj, dala si,
vršky si strhala;
z teho sem, děvucho poznal,
že je laska mala.
Ah, but you did give to me
the petals you plucked off;
that showed me, dear girl,
the feebleness of your love.
V černym lese
V černym lese, ptaček zpiva,
ma mila tam travu sbira,
nasbirala ji moc,
němohla si pomoc.
In the black wood
In the black wood, a little bird is singing,
my love is gathering grass there,
she has collected too much,
she couldn’t stop herself.
Nasbirala, natrhala,
na mileho zavolala:
pod’, šuhajku, pod’, pod’,
němožu si pomoc.
She gathered, she picked,
she called out to her beau:
come, my swain, come,
I cannot stop myself.
INTERVAL
14
Texts and translations
Bohuslav Martinuo (1890–1959)
Pisničky na dve stránky
Songs on Two Pages
Děvče z Moravy
Přiletěl ptáček z cizí krajiny,
donesl psaní, v něm pozdravení.
Bych se podíval do země české,
že jsou tam taky děvčátka hezké.
A Girl from Moravia
A little bird flew in from foreign parts,
it brought a letter with a greeting in it.
I should tour around the Bohemian lands,
because there are pretty girls there too.
Zuo stanu radši v jihlavském kraji,
najdu si děvče hezké z Moravy.
Moravka chodí přímo jak svíce,
každá má k chlapcuo m upřímné srdce.
But I’d rather stay around Jihlava;
I will find myself a pretty girl from Moravia.
Moravian girls walk as upright as candles;
everyone gives a faithful heart to her beau.
Súsedova stajňa
U súseda nová stajňa
a v tej stajňě koně vrané.
Our Neighbour’s Stable
There’s a new stable at the neighbour’s,
and in that stable raven-black horses.
A kdo na ně sedat bude?
Kdo by jiny’ jak syneček.
And who will mount them?
Who else but the young lad.
A čím on jich krmit bude?
Pěknú drobunkú sekankú.
And what will he feed them?
Nice bits of freshly cut hay.
Z čeho on jich pojit bude?
Z pěkné, ze zlaté putenky.
From what will he give them water?
From a fine, golden pail.
Kaj su na nich jezdit bude?
V čirém poli chytat laňky.
Where will he go to ride them?
He will hunt hinds across the fields.
Chytl on tam pěknú laňku,
laňku, laňku jménem Anku.
There he caught a pretty hind,
A hind, a hind by the name of Anka.
Měla ona zlaté rožky,
rožky a stříbrné nožky.
She had golden antlers,
golden antlers and silver hooves.
Ty rožky jí ulomíme
a džbánkuo z nich nalat’ dáme.
We will break off her antlers
and make cups out of them.
Kdo z ty’ch džbánkuo pijat’ bude?
Kdož by jiny’ jak syneček.
And who will drink from these cups?
Who else but the young lad.
A co on z nich pijat’ bude?
Což by jinší jak vínečko.
And what will he drink from them?
What else but good wine.
Please turn page quietly
15
Texts and translations
Naděje
Hlavěnka mě bolí, srdéčko ve mně hrá,
že muo j šohajíček jinó panenko má.
Hope
My head is throbbing, my heart is in turmoil,
because my beau has found another girl.
Jinó panenko má, jiné dary nosí,
a já mám náděju, že se mě naprosí.
He has another girl, he takes gifts to another,
and I live in hope that he will beg me to have him back.
Zˇe se mě naprosí, na kolínka klekne,
nebude na tom dost’, ješče klobók smekne.
That he will beg me, fall down on his knees,
but this will not suffice, unless he doffs his hat to me.
Nesmeké, synečku, nesmeké klobóka,
at’ lidi neřeknó, že jsu Boží muka.
Do not doff, my lad, do not doff your hat,
lest people mistake me for a roadside cross.
Zˇe jsu Boží muka, co na poli stojí,
že za mnó pacholek černooké chodí.
For a roadside cross, which stands in the fields
and is visited by a black-eyed servant.
Hlásny’
Chodí hlásny’ po dědině,
vesele si prozpěvuje,
Krista Pána zvelebuje.
The Watchman
The watchman walks about the village,
he cheerfully sings to himself
and praises Christ the Lord.
Ach, mlč, hlásníčku nespívy’,
neb mně usnul muo j rozmily’,
na m˘ch rukách pěkn˘ch, bíly’ch.
Ah, be quiet, good watchman, do not sing,
for my beloved has fallen asleep
in my lovely white arms.
Nerada bych ho zbudila,
nerada bych mu snu zrušila,
by ho hlava nebolela.
I would not like to wake him,
I would not like to disturb his dreams,
so that his head does not hurt.
Tájna láska
Chceme my sa, chceme,
ale potajemně.
Neznaj sa, děvčico,
mezi ludma ke mně.
Secret Love
We want each other, we do,
but secretly.
Give me the cold shoulder, sweetheart,
when we are amongst other folk.
Jak se nemám znáti,
dyž to ludé věd’á,
dyž tvé černé oči
dycky po mně hled’á.
How am I supposed to ignore you,
when everybody knows,
when your black eyes
are always looking for me.
Boží muka
U brněnské Boží moke,
klečí tam šohaj, sepňa roke.
Přišla k němu jeho milá,
a ptala se ho, co tam dělá.
The Roadside Cross
By a Brno roadside cross,
a swain kneels there with his hands clasped.
His beloved came up to him
and asked him what he was doing there.
16
Texts and translations
Nedělám to, milá, mnoho,
jenom se modlím Páno Boho.
Habe mně dal Pán Boh ščestí,
habech já dostal děvče hezky’.
I am not doing that much, my love,
just praying to the Lord God.
May the Lord God grant me happiness,
may he bestow on me a pretty girl.
Zvolenovcí chlapci
Zvolenovcí hezcí chlapci,
nosí každy’ šátek v kapci.
The Lads from Zvolen
The handsome lads from Zvolen,
each carries a handkerchief in his pocket.
A šáteček pěkny’ bíly’,
a kraje má malovany’.
A pretty white hankie
with embroidered hems.
Kery’ dáme mládencovi,
Horákovy’mu Frantovi?
Which one will we give
to the young Franta Horák?
Dáme my mu ten ruo žovy’,
od Kačenky Chaloupkovy.
We will give him the pink one
belonging to Kačenka Chaloupková.
To je děvče jako kvítek,
dáme za ni dvacetníček.
Now she’s a young girl in full bloom,
we will give sixpence for her.
Estli vy to dobře víte,
dvacetníček dostanete!
If you know what it’s all about,
you shall have the sixpence.
Jak bychom to nevěděli,
dyžsme vás spolu viděli?
How should we not know that,
since we saw you together.
V tej komuo rce ste seděli,
spolu ste se milovali!
You were sitting in that chamber
whispering sweet nothings to one another.
Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904)
Milostne písně, Op. 83
Love Songs
Ó, naši lásce nekvete
Ó, naši lásce nekvete
To vytoužené štěstí:
A kdyby kvetlo, A kdyby kvetlo,
Nebude dlouho, dlouho kvésti.
Oh, our love does not bloom
Oh, our love does not bloom
with that long-desired bliss:
and if it should bloom,
it would not be for long.
Proč by se slza v ohnivé
Polibky vekrádala?
Proč by mne v plné lásce své
Ouzkostně objímala?
Why would a teardrop
steal into fiery kisses?
Why would she embrace me
so anxiously in the fullness of love?
Please turn page quietly
17
Texts and translations
Ó, trpké je to loučení,
Kde naděj nezakyne:
Tu srdce cítí ve chvění,
Že brzo, act, brzo bídně zhyne.
Oh, bitter is that parting
where hope does not die:
the trembling heart feels
that soon, ah soon, forlornly it will perish.
V tak mnohém srdci mrtvo jest
V tak mnohém srdci mrtvo jest,
Jak v tem né pustině,
V něm na žalost a na bolest,
Ba, místa jedině.
Death dwells in so many a heart
Death dwells in so many a heart,
as in the gloomy wilderness;
aye, there is a place in it
only for sorrow and for pain.
Tu klam mi lásky horoucí
V to srdce vstupuje,
A srdce žalem prahnoucí,
To mní, že miluje.
Delusions of burning love
enter into my heart,
and the heart, pining from grief,
believes that it loves.
A v tomto sladk´m domnění
Se ještě jednou v ráj
To srdce mrtvé promění
A zpívá, zpívá, starou báj!
And in that sweet assumption
this dead heart transforms itself
once more into a paradise
and sings the old legend!
Kol domu se ted’ hpotácím
Kol domu se ted’ hpotácím
Kdes bydlívala dříve,
A z lásky räny krvácím,
Lásky sladké, lživé!
Now I falter past the house
Now I falter past the house
where you once lived,
and I bleed from the wound
of sweet, false love!
A smutny’m okem nazérám,
Zdaž ke mně vedeš kroku:
A vstříc ti náruč otvírám,
Však slzu cítím v oku!
And I watch with a sorrowful eye
to see whether you take a step towards me,
and I open my arms to meet you,
but I feel a tear in my eye!
Ó, kde jsi, drahá, kde jsi dnes,
Což nepřijdeš mi vstříce?
Což nemám v srdci slast a ples,
Tě uzřít nikdy více?
Oh, where are you beloved, where are you today,
why do you not come to meet me?
Why is my heart not filled with delight and exultation,
never to behold you again?
Já vím, že v sladké naději
Já vím, že v sladké naději
Tě smím přec milovat;
A že chceš tím horoucněji
Mou lásku pěstovat.
I know that in sweet hope
I know that in sweet hope
I may still love you,
and that you wish thereby more ardently
to nurture my love.
18
Texts and translations
A přec, když nazřím očí tvy’ch
V tu přerozkošnou noc,
A zvím, jak nebe lásky z nich
Na mne snáší moc:
And still, when I look into your eyes
on this glorious night,
and discover how love’s heaven
envelops me in its power:
Tu moje oko slzamí,
T náhle se obstírá,
Neb v štěstí naše za námi
Zly’ osud pozírá!
Then suddenly my eyes
overflow with tears,
for behind us in our joy
lurks an evil fate!
Nad krajem vévodí lehky’ spánek
Nad krajem vévodí lehky’ spánek,
Jasná se rozpjala májová noc;
Nesměly’ krade se do listí vánek,
S nebes se schy’lila míru moc.
Gentle slumber reigns over the countryside
Gentle slumber reigns over the countryside
the clear May night has unfolded;
a shy breeze steals into the leaves,
the power of peace has descended from the heavens.
Zadřímlo kvítí, potokem šumá
Tišeji nápěvuo tajemny’ch sbor.
Příroda v rozkoši blaženě dumá,
Neklidny’ ch živluo všad utichl vzpor.
The flowers have dozed for a while, through the brook
there murmurs a soft chorus of secret melodies.
Nature muses blithely in delight,
everywhere the restless elements’ agitation is stilled.
Hvězdy se sešly co naděje světla,
Země se mění na nebesky’ kruh.
My’m srdcem, v němž to kdys blaženost kvetla,
My’m srdcem táhne jen bolesti ruch!
The stars have congregated as lights of hope,
the earth transforms into a celestial orb;
at my heart, in which rapture once blossomed,
at my heart tugs only the torment’s tumult.
Zde v lese u potoka
Zde v lese u potoka
Já stojím sám a sám;
A ve potoka vlny
V myšlenkách pozírám.
Here in the forest by a brook
Here in the forest by a brook
I stand alone,
and gaze into the brook’s waves,
lost in thought.
Tu vidím stary’ kámen,
Nad nímž se vlny dmou;
Ten kámen stoupá a padá
Bez klidu pod vlnou.
I see an old stone,
over which the waves surge,
the stone rises and falls
ceaselessly under the waves.
A proud se oň opírá,
Až kámen zvrhne se.
Kdy vlna života
Mne ze světa odnese?
And the current washes against it,
until the stone topples over;
when will the wave of life
bear me away from this world?
Please turn page quietly
19
V té sladké moci oči tvy’ch
V té sladké moci oči tvy’ch
Jak rád, jak rád bych zahynul,
Kdyby mě k životu jen smích
Rtuo krásny’ch nekynul.
In the sweet power of your eyes
In the sweet power of your eyes
How gladly would I perish,
if only the laughter of beautiful lips
did not beckon me to life.
Však tu smrt sladkou zvolím hned
S tou láskou, s tou láskou ve hrudí:
Když mě jen ten tvuo j smavy’ ret
K životu probudí.
But I will at once choose sweet death
with this love in my breast:
if only those smiling lips of yours
will rouse me to life.
Ó duše drahá, jedinká
Ó duše drahá, jedinká
Jež v srdci žiješ dosud:
Má oblétá tě myšlenka,
Ač nás dělí zly’ osud.
Oh, dear matchless soul
Oh, dear matchless soul,
which has ever dwelt in my heart:
my memory orbits around you,
though evil fate divides us.
Ó, kéž jsem zpěvnou labutí,
Já zaletěl bych k tobě;
A v posledním bych vzdechnutí
Ti vypěl srdce v mdlobě.
Oh, if only I were a singing swan,
I would wing my way to you;
and as I sighed my last,
swooning I would sing out my heart to you.
Večerní písně, Op. 3
Evening Songs, Op. 3
Mně zdálo se, žes umřela
Mně zdálo se, žes umřela;
slyšel jsem zvonit hrany,
a pláče bylo, kvílení
a nářku na vše strany.
I dreamt you were dead
I dreamt you were dead;
I heard bells tolling,
and there was weeping, wailing
and lamenting on all sides.
Tak divně Ti tam ustlali!
Na hrob Ti kámen dali,
a abych na něj napsal verš,
mne vlídně požádali.
What a strange bed they prepared for you!
On your grave they put a stone,
and they kindly asked me
to write a verse for it.
Ó, lidé, lidé z kamene,
zde srdce mé si mějte
a co jsem ještě nezpíval,
to do kamene vrejte.
Oh people, people of stone,
here you have my heart
and what I have not yet sung,
carve that on the stone.
Mé lásce jste nevěřili
a zhrdli my’mi slovy,
kdyžbude kámen mluvit k vám,
snad vám to lépe poví.
You did not believe my love,
and you scorned my words,
when it is the stone that speaks to you,
perhaps it will be more eloquent.
20
Texts and translations
Cikánské melodie, Op. 55
Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55
A les je tichy’ kolem kol
A les je tichy’ kolem kol,
jen srdce mír ten ruší,
a černy’ kouř, jenž spěchá v dol,
mé slze v lících, mé slze suší.
And the wood is quiet all around
And the wood is quiet all around,
only my heart disturbs the peace,
and the black smoke that swirls in the vale
dries the tears I have shed on my cheeks.
Však nemusí jich usušit,
necht’ v jiné tváře bije.
Kdo v smutku muo že zazpívat,
ten nezhynul, ten žije!
However, it need not dry them,
let it assail other faces.
Whoever can sing when sad
has not perished but lives still.
Kdyžmne stará matka
Když mne stará matka
zpívat učívala,
podivno, že často,
často slzívala.
Songs My Mother Taught Me
When my old mother
taught me to sing,
it was strange that often,
often she would cry.
A ted’ také pláčem
snědé líce mučím,
když cigánské děti
hrát a zpívat učím!
And now I also torment
my tanned cheeks with tears,
when I teach gypsy children
to play and sing.
Struna naladěna
Struna naladěna,
hochu, toč se v kole,
dnes, snad dnes převysoko,
zejtra zase dole!
The strings are tuned
The strings are tuned,
my lad, come and dance in the circle,
today maybe on top of the world,
tomorrow right down below again.
Pozejtří u Nilu
za posvátny’m stolem;
struna již naladěna,
hochu, toč se kolem!
The day after tomorrow by the Nile,
a guest at a sacred banquet;
the strings are already tuned,
my lad, come and dance in the circle.
All English translations of Czech texts © Paul Wingfield, and reprinted by
kind permission of Deutsche Grammophon (CD booklet 00289 477
6665) except for: Eben’s Malé Smutky, translated from the German by
Mark Pappenheim; Schulhoff’s ‘Kozaka by tancovala’, Janáček’s ‘Hájny’
and ‘Tiha’, texts, courtesy of Central European Music Agency/Supraphon,
and translations courtesy of the Wigmore Hall; Dvořák’s Milostne písně,
Op. 83, translations courtesy of the Wigmore Hall. Grateful thanks to
Paula Best for all her help.
21
About the performers
DG/Mathias Bothor
Magdalena Kožená mezzo-soprano
Magdalena Kožená was born
in Brno and studied at the Brno
Conservatoire and the College
of Performing Arts in
Bratislava. She won several
major prizes, culminating in
the International Mozart
Competition in 1995.
Malcolm Martineau piano
Malcolm Martineau was
born in Edinburgh, read
Music at Cambridge and
studied at the Royal College
of Music.
Recognised as one of the
leading accompanists of his
generation, he has worked
Magdalena Kožená is well
with many of the world’s
established as a major concert
greatest singers, including
and recital artist and has
Sir Thomas Allen, Dame
appeared at leading venues in London, Paris, Brussels,
Janet Baker, Olaf Bär, Barbara Bonney, Ian Bostridge,
Amsterdam, Vienna, Hamburg, Lisbon, Prague,
Angela Gheorghiu, Susan Graham, Thomas Hampson,
Copenhagen, Tokyo, San Francisco and New York’s Alice Della Jones, Simon Keenlyside, Angelika Kirchschlager,
Tully Hall and Carnegie Hall. She has also sung at the
Magdalena Kožená, Solveig Kringelborn, Jonathan
Munich, Salzburg, Schwarzenberg Schubertiade,
Lemalu, Dame Felicity Lott, Christopher Maltman, Karita
Aldeburgh and Edinburgh International festivals. Her
Mattila, Lisa Milne, Ann Murray, Anna Netrebko, Anne
pianists include Daniel Barenboim, Yefim Bronfman,
Sofie von Otter, Joan Rodgers, Amanda Roocroft,
Malcolm Martineau, András Schiff and Mitsuko Uchida. Michael Schade, Frederica von Stade, Bryn Terfel and
Sarah Walker.
She has sung with the Berlin, Rotterdam and Vienna
Philharmonic orchestras, the Orchestra of the Age of
He has presented his own series at St John’s, Smith
Enlightenment, the Philadelphia Orchestra, Chamber
Square, the Wigmore Hall and at the Edinburgh
Orchestra of Europe, Scottish Chamber Orchestra and
International Festival. He has also appeared at the
the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela.
Barbican, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Royal Opera House,
Covent Garden, La Scala, Milan, the Châtelet in Paris, the
Operatic roles have included Gluck’s Orphée in Paris;
Liceu in Barcelona, Berlin’ s Philharmonie and
Nerone (L’incoronazione di Poppaea) in Vienna;
Konzerthaus, Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, the Vienna
Mélisande in Paris and at the Deutsche Staatsoper,
Konzerthaus and Musikverein, Alice Tully Hall and
Cherubino in Aix-en-Provence and Munich, and Sesto
Carnegie Hall in New York, Sydney Opera House and at
(Giulio Cesare) in Amsterdam. At the Salzburg Festival
the Aix-en-Provence, Vienna, Edinburgh International,
her roles have included Zerlina, Idamante and
Schubertiade, Munich and Salzburg festivals.
Dorabella. For the Metropolitan Opera she has sung
Varvara (Katya Kabanova) and Cherubino, Dorabella
Recording projects have included Schubert, Schumann
and Idamante, and for the Royal Opera House, Covent
and English song recitals with Bryn Terfel; Schubert and
Garden, she has taken the title-role in La Cenerentola.
Strauss recitals with Simon Keenlyside; and recitals with
Angela Gheorghiu, Barbara Bonney, Magdalena
Her recordings include discs of arias by Mozart, Gluck
Kožená, Della Jones, Susan Bullock and Solveig
and Mysliveček, French arias, cantatas by the Bach
Kringelborn. He has also recorded Fauré’s complete
family, Songs My Mother Taught Me with Malcolm
songs with Sarah Walker and Tom Krause, and the
Martineau, Gluck’s Paride ed Elena, a Mozart album
complete folk songs of Britten and Beethoven.
with Sir Simon Rattle; and a Handel disc with Andrea
Marcon. She was Gramophone‘s Artist of the Year in
Malcolm Martineau was given an honorary doctorate by
2004. In 2003 she was awarded the title of Chevalier de
the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in 2004.
l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French Government.
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